The 'Voldemort And His Kitten' Series
by CUtopia
Summary: A series of drabbles/shorts on Voldemort and his kitten, Plushy.
1. An Ordinary Sunday

Entry for the Chocolate Frog Card Club

(Gold) Herpo The Foul; Challenge: Include a snake into your story.

(600 Words)

Well, I wrote this for a friend of mine, for her birthday - she loves kittens ;) If you happen to have any ideas, don't be afraid to tell me about them in the reviews :)

* * *

 **An** **Ordinary Sunday**

The day on which Lord Voldemort's life changed considerably was a quiet Sunday. Already in the early morning hours, the sun shone brightly through the curtains of the Dark Lord's bedroom, the rays tickling his face. Birds were singing gleefully while sitting on the branches of the willow in the garden, and it promised to be a beautiful spring day – something that disgusted Voldemort the minute he opened his eyes.

Slowly, he got up and dressed, glaring outside whenever he walked past a window; he really hated good weather, that kind of weather that brought everyone out onto the streets. He despised how loud the children were when they ran past his cottage, playing their games. Sometimes, he even found balls or frisbees in his rose bushes – unnecessary to say that he tended to destroy these items with a quick flick of his wand. At least, if Nagini hadn't eaten them already, the greedy little beast.

Annoyed about the way in which the sun invaded his home, he pulled the curtains closed as he entered the living room with the black coffee he'd made. Taking a few sips, he grabbed the Daily Prophet he'd took from the post owl earlier and opened it. However, after the first few lines of the head article, he scoffed and threw the newspaper into the bin, mumbling something incoherent about blood traitors. Seriously, he couldn't wait for the day on which he would take over the power in the wizarding world; all these incapable idiots would be sacked.

He just wanted to sit at his work desk to continue writing his memoirs – he still needed a good, catchy title – when he heard an odd, wailing sound. Assuming that it was some child that had injured itself while playing, he started to scribble with his quill, but then, the noise resounded again. Nagini hissed from inside her terrarium, sounding annoyed about being locked up.

Unable to concentrate, Voldemort got up and walked towards the door, ready to react to whatever source was causing these annoying wailing sounds.

He'd expected many things; children, housewives, an ambush...

But certainly not a plain paper box.

The wailing came from inside of it, and drawing his wand, he decided to investigate – he really couldn't work with that noise in the background.

Big, round, green eyes stared up at him.

At first, the Dark Lord thought that it was a bad joke; some of his followers definitely had a weird sense of humour. Then, he thought that this was a trap – Animagi weren't uncommon, and they would be useful spies.

However, when the kitten meowed at him, looking terrified and helpless, a distant feeling told him that this was simply a little kitten. It had plushy fur, striped, with white legs and a white stomach.

Somewhere deep inside of him, something moved; the thought of closing the door and leaving this little thing outside, alone, without someone to take care of it, was unimaginable.

Putting his wand into his pocket, he gingerly picked up the box and carried it inside, mumbling to himself: "I must be crazy. Out of my mind. Off the trolley. Whacko."

The kitten only meowed, stretching one of its tiny paws towards him. Voldemort placed the box on the floor in the kitchen, eyeing the little thing and saying: "Listen. You can stay here, as long as you don't annoy me. I've got evil things to plan."

Little did he know that this was only the start of a big adventure with a lot of trouble.


	2. Bored Kitten

Entry for the Chocolate Frog Card Club

(Bronze) Iris Pivis; Challenge: Incorporate a rainbow into your story.

(450 Words)

* * *

 **Bored Kitten**

Voldemort had never thought that something as tiny as a kitten could cause him so much trouble.

Firstly, Plushy – admittedly, he hadn't been exactly creative with the name – seemed to disagree with all the cat food he had bought for her. He found that pretty ungrateful; after all, he was spending the money he could have used for evil plans on feeding her.

Also, the little kitten was an incredibly undisciplined thing in his opinion. Whenever he tried to work, it would sit next to his chair and meow loudly and stare up at him with wide, expectant eyes. It was nearly impossible to concentrate, and when he'd finally succeeded in sending Plushy away, he still couldn't get any work done.

As soon as his quill had touched the parchment, a ripping sound came from behind him and made him jump from his chair. Upon turning around, he saw one of his cushions lying on the floor where he'd left it earlier, not bothered enough to pick it up when it had fallen from the couch. Only, it wasn't the same cushion it had been back then – a few cuts covered it, and some of the white wool filling swelled out.

"What the heck?" he exclaimed and stared down at Plushy; the kitten was sitting next to the destroyed cushion, looking like innocence itself as she meowed up at him. "Bad cat! Bad cat! Don't do this!"

Glaring at Plushy, he hoped that scolding the cat would be enough to keep it from distracting him from his work – he really needed to get something done. His Death Eaters always seemed to know when he started procrastinating, and he hated it whenever they gave him this knowing look; as if they had seen him doodling around in his notes.

Sitting back at his desk, he stared out of the window for a moment, to gather himself. It was raining outside, but the blanket of clouds had broken up lightly and the sun was shining through. A rainbow was spanning over the green hills, but he didn't have time to glare at it for it being so cheery and beautiful.

Once again, a loud noise from behind him disturbed his not present concentration, and he was ready to throw a tantrum and threaten to grill Plushy, but this time, the picture was completely different.

Plushy was jumping over the living room floor, her front paws shoving around a little ball of wool. She was meowing in joy as she catched the ball and then sent it rolling again, playing as if she hadn't been bored to death earlier.


	3. Distraction

Entry for the Chocolate Frog Card Club

(Bronze) Balfour Blane; Challenge: The main character in your story is in a position of authority.

(490 Words)

* * *

 **Distraction**

Lord Voldemort growled and ripped the letter he'd received into tiny little shreds. Letting himself fall onto the couch, he tossed the pieces of paper onto the coffee table, mumbling angrily: "These idiots! How presumptuous of them to think they know how much work it is to plot these evil plans! How dare they pressure me?!"

Releasing an annoyed sigh, he ran a hand over his pale, bald head, continuing to mutter: "Idiots. Fools! Narrow-minded blockheads!"

For a second, he had the desire to kill someone, but unfortunately, nobody was present. So much anger was boiling inside of him, he simply cursed to himself while he pondered about what to do now. Some of his followers had dared to write to him, telling him that they had the feeling he wasn't productive enough. They thought they needed more plans for their rebellion, for their strive for power, and they expected him to come up with them.

Obviously, they had no idea how much work and time it required to come up with ideas and turn them into practicable plans. Procrastinating alone took many hours of the day! Nobody knew how much of a burden it was to be the leader of a movement that aimed to take over the wizarding world. It was tiring and exhausting; and here they were, trying to pressure him!

He was extremely glad that he was alone right now; it would have ruined his reputation if anybody had seen him like this, growling in anger with shaking hands. The only thing he wanted to do right now was tell these idiots to do their shit on their own and grab a bottle of Firewhisky afterwards to celebrate how he'd kicked their asses.

Unfortunately, that wasn't an option – though, he definitely felt like having a drink before he had another look over his ideas. Grabbing his plans, he just wanted to get up and grab the bottle of Firewhisky he knew he had in the kitchen, when he felt a weight in his lap. Then, a meowing sound told him exactly who was sitting on his lap.

"Plushy," he sighed in an annoyed tone, trying to ignore the cute expression the kitten made; he sometimes thought that those eyes and their irresistibility were the most evil thing in this world. Plushy didn't seem too impressed by his rejective behaviour; she simply lay down and rubbed her head against his thigh, purring sweetly.

"Great. Okay, I'll pet you. But only for five minutes, and YOU, dear Plushy, will explain to these idiots why I didn't get any work done!"

Plushy only purred louder and he shook his head as he started to run his fingers through her soft fur, asking himself why he was keeping this little thing – it always distracted him when he had to do things.

On the other hand, she was simply too cute to resist.


	4. Close Call

Entry for the Chocolate Frog Card Club

(Silver) Ignatia Wildsmith; Challenge: Use the Floo Network in your story.

Entry for the Gringotts Prompt Bank

Various Prompts: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

(character) Henchman

(character) Villain

(word) henchman

(dialogue) "Now the nightmare's real."

(570 Words)

* * *

 **Close Call**

"Shit, shit, shit," Lord Voldemort cursed loudly, coughing out some ash as he literally flew out of the fireplace in his living room, still rotating – the Floo travel hadn't been exactly comfortable. Not paying attention to the large amount of grey ash he left behind on the floor, he ran through the house, frantically searching in every corner. Still muttering curses under his breath, he saw all the cat toys he'd bought and that now were scattered all around his living room. His eyes widened and he stumbled forwards, nearly falling over the coffee table as he grabbed one of the toys and stuffed it into the pocket of his cloak; some others, he shoved under the couch with his shoe.

A questioning 'meow' made him turn around on his heel; Plushy was staring up at him, and he thought that he could see a little bit of concern in the kitten's eyes.

"They're coming, Plushy," Voldemort whispered, his voice nearly cracking, and bent to pick the little thing up, running his fingers through her fur. "And if they see you..."

He shuddered, and Plushy started to purr soothingly, causing him to calm down a little bit and take a few breaths. Then, he was finally able to summon himself and explain the situation, completely forgetting that he was actually talking to a kitten and not a person.

"You know that I was out to meet my Death Eaters and present them some new plans, right? Want to know what happened?! They said I haven't done any good work lately, that the plans are worthless! My plans, worthless? Now they claim that I'm not getting anything done and want to inspect my home! If they see you, Plushy..."

Voldemort again took a few deep breaths, his despair showing openly on his pale face as he choked: "They'll want me to get rid of you! They're monsters, you know?"

He pressed the kitten against his chest and she meowed again, rubbing her face against him. A knock at the door caused Voldemort to jump, and his eyes scanned the room in panic. There had to be a place to hide her, because he didn't want to risk anything.

"My Lord? Open the door!"

Recognising the voice of Bellatrix, Voldemort rushed over to the wooden chest in the corner, opened it, and gently placed Plushy on the blankets and cushions he stored in the chest.

"You need to be quiet, do you understand? Oh, now the nightmare's real."

Quickly shutting the lid, he made his way to the door, exclaiming: "One second!"

Bellatrix looked annoyed as he opened the door for her and Lucius, and he tried to appear as normal as possible, despite the fact that his heart was beating hard against his ribs. He could hear Plushy moving in the chest, and he was convinced that Bellatrix and Lucius had to be able to hear her as well.

However, to his relief, his henchman obviously were deaf AND blind, and he was the only one that nearly got a heart attack when he spotted one of Plushy's pink toys lying openly on the floor. He must have missed that one during his hasty cleaning...

As soon as Bellatrix and Lucius were gone again, he let Plushy out and cuddled with her for a whole hour, even though he felt uncomfortable about this pure happiness inside of him.


	5. The Search

(560 Words)

* * *

 **The Search**

When Voldemort woke up, everything seemed perfectly normal. He was lying on his couch, papers were strewn across his coffee table, silent witnesses of his procrastinatory nap, and he groaned, turning away – the papers looked too much like work. While he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed that it was very silent in the house...

Too silent.

Since Plushy's arrival, it had rarely been quiet in his home; the little kitten was constantly playing, causing havoc everywhere and at any time. In the two weeks, she'd destroyed several cushions, two mugs – his favourite 'I Love Dark Magic' mug among them – three toys and one curtain. He'd lectured her about curtains not being there to climb several times, and he'd actually lost count on how many times he'd scolded Plushy.

Voldemort had actually longed for some silence in this time, especially when he hadn't been able to let Plushy go into his garden. He'd never been able to leave her alone for longer than two hours; he always had to have an eye on his little trouble maker, and it sometimes was exhausting.

But right now, as the house was as silent as it had been in the time before Plushy had lived with him, he felt uncomfortable and concerned. He didn't feel like this silence was a good sign, and he immediately called for Plushy, desperately wanting to hear her meow again.

However, even after calling several times, there was no answer, and he started to search for her. She wasn't in the kitchen, and her bowl was still half full. His living room was empty too, and none of her toys were missing, he even tripped over one of them.

The longer he searched and the more places he found empty, the more worried he became. He even started to check the most unlikely places: the first floor, even though Plushy wasn't able to climb up the stairs yet, the garden, despite the locked door. And though Nagini hadn't been allowed to leave her huge terrarium since Plushy's arrival, he took her out and checked her stomach, ignoring Nagini's protestations that she hadn't eaten the kitten.

He normally trusted the snake, but he knew how tasty Plushy had to look for her – never trust a snake with mood swings and a ravenous appetite for everything. She was pissed that he didn't believe her, but he didn't really care – he was starting to go crazy.

What if she'd found a way out of the house and had left? Maybe she didn't enjoy staying with him at all? Then she surely would have used the first opportunity to escape.

These thoughts made his heart feel heavy, and he couldn't keep himself from shaking. He could barely cope with the perspective of being on his own again.

With hanging shoulders, he walked towards the backdoor, deciding to have another look around the garden. However, when he spotted his shoes, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There, in his fluffy panda slippers, Plushy was lying, coiled up and asleep.

Voldemort released a loud sigh and ran a hand over his face, once again feeling like this damn kitten was turning his whole life upside down. But still, he couldn't imagine living without her.


End file.
